Cheesecake for Breakfast

It's 8:30 on Friday morning and I'm having a slice of lime cheesecake with a coconut crust for breakfast. Normally, I would be having a poached egg on toast, my newest obsession, but I used all the eggs making the cheesecake last night and my refrigerator is so small that in addition to the cheesecake, it fits little else. I'm not much of a sweets person and I would really almost rather be eating something salty, like Chinese dumplings or potato latkes, but I do make an exception for cheesecake. I also figure that this one, the result of trying to be über prepared for tonight's subsequently aborted dinner party, will just languish in my fridge if I don't do something about it, hence, cheesecake for breakfast. Anyway, the most important thing about this treatise is that it turned out delicious. I used the recipe off of Epicurious for Key Lime Cheesecake with Tropical Dried-Fruit Chutney. I usually have to piece together a variety of different scraps of cheesecake advice from different recipes (seriously, how can there be so many different techniques for making cheesecake), but this time I more or less followed it exactly, taking into account just a few of the suggestions in the comments section, which is truly the most fun part of the site to look at anyway. I also made a few modifications of my own: there are no key limes in Spain so used regular ones, skipped the weird-sounding dried-fruit chutney, reduced the sugar slightly, used plain yoghurt instead of sour cream (or crème fraiche), cooked the crust (with unsweetened coconut flakes) for about 18 minutes and put a little oil under it so it wouldn't stick to my spring-form pan. Anyway, it was incredibly easy to make, especially the crust, and took about 9 minutes in total to prepare plus a night in the fridge to settle. Just a tip, take the foil off from around the pan before sticking it in your fridge, mine was slightly flooded this morning - must have been from the wine I drank while cooking the cheesecake last night. Overall, delicious, although maybe a bit rich for breakfast. I may have to trade it for a breakfast bowl of gumbo (also on the menu for tonight's cancelled soiree). Please excuse the poor lighting on the photo, the sun's just come up.

Lusting for limpits

The first time I was lucky enough to try a lapa, or limpet, at a restaurant on the Canary Island of Tenerife, I was also unlucky in that it was the very last limpet left in the whole restaurant. In fact, after waiting for over an hour for our table and watching plate after plate of these hot, sizzling mollusks go by, bathed in mojo verde sauce made of garlic, olive oil, vinegar and fresh parsley or cilantro, when we finally sat down and were told us that there were none left, I was only able to get my hands on one of them by begging the kind gentlemen at the next table. Yes! They are good enough to tell a tall tale to a group of total strangers about having traveled all the way from the USA to fulfill my lifelong dream of tasting these delectable mollusks. Now, recently back from ten glorious days on the stunning Island of Lanzarote, I can gratefully say that I ate myself silly with limpets. I bet you never heard that before. Read more in "Stuck on Limpets" on the Trans-Iberian blog from El País.

Eating Spanish in Delhi

While I may have indulged in a glass (or three) of Spanish wine at the Instituto Cervantes, I confess that on my recent trip to Delhi, I didn't eat any Spanish food at all. I mean, why would I? The food in India was amazing: succulent wood-roasted tandoori chicken, dahl, korma, tikka masala, etc. And after all, I only had a week to taste it all. But if I could do it all over again, I would take the time to try the food at Chef Saby's incredible restaurant, the Olive Bar and Kitchen, which I unfortunately only heard about on my last day in the city. In any case, I couldn't help writing about this culinary gem and some of the other Spanish gastronomy that is making its way to Delhi.

Read more in "India Savors Spain" on www.foodsfromspain.com

Bluefish Revisited

Last night I finally fulfilled a request made a couple of years ago by my dear friend Pepe, the ex-waiter from my ex-restaurant, to reprise his favorite dishes from Bluefish: Plato Beirut, Roasted garlic with brie and Apple pie with vanilla ice cream.

I have to admit that the cooking part was pretty fun. Considering how big my own kitchen is, I almost felt like i was back at Bluefish. I knocked off the prep work for these three dishes in about an hour - one hand making the apple crumble, while the other boiled water, drizzled olive oil, peeled garlic and diced parsley. It was as automatic and speedy as it used to be and the ingredients flowed into each dish without a moments doubt. At the same time, I realized that despite how much time has gone by, I still don't particularly feel like eating any of these things. So, in order to spice up the routine a bit I decided to pickle some carrot sticks using an easy recipe from Gourmet.

They were delicious: crunchy, slightly spicy from the garlic, dill and pink peppercorns that I added on a whim. Truly, the photo doesn't do them justice.

The whole thing was pulled together by a limonada or white sangria that I made with white wine, lemon fanta, fizzy water, lemon juice, peaches, pineapple and cherries and a splash of cherry liquor that I bought during a recent trip to Valle del Jerte in Extremadura. I should point out that, here in Spain, people really NEVER drink sangria. It is strictly tourist fare. However, this was a delicious and satisfying beverage anomaly meant to deal with a particularly hot day and alcohol-infused week - but it was delicious!

Food and Theater in Almagro

At first glance, Almagro (Castile-La Mancha) exudes a decidedly traditional feel. This preciously maintained town is made up of impeccably whitewashed houses and cobblestone streets arrayed around a 16th century, porticoed Plaza Mayor. Its cultural heritage is also reflected in the annual Classical Theater Festival that attracts spectators from all over the world. At the same time, the town’s rich gastronomic heritage is often represented by the pickled berenjenas (eggplants) de Almagro that are everywhere and were first introduced by the Moors in the 10th century. Therefore, expecting to become immersed in this air of classicism, I took the train to Almagro last weekend for the festival’s final days and was pleasantly surprised to find that from the theater to the table, Almagro does tradition, with a twist.

Read more at the Trans-Iberian blog from El País: "Almagro, tradition with a twist"

To Market in Madrid

I spent the greater part of yesterday at two very different types of Madrid markets. In the morning, I made my way over to the second edition of the “Días de Madrid” farmer’s market, which is now being held on the first Saturday of every month in the Recinto Ferial Casa de Campo.

Keep reading on the Trans-Iberian blog from El País: "Madrid Markets - Rural Meets Urban"

Grilled Seafood at Madrid's El Boquerón

With the way that I have been sluggishly getting through this heatwave, I almost feel like I've met the same fate as the delicious gambas (shrimp) and cigalas (like salt-water crayfish) that are grilled and served piping hot with sea salt at El Boquerón, Lavapiés' local seafood haunt. This traditionally tiled bar has been a neighborhood favorite for decades and has all of the elements of one of those classic and treasured Madrid locales that you hope to frequent for years to come: grouchy but charming old waiters, delicious food, perfectly poured cold cañas (little glasses f draft beer) endless glasses of vermouth on-tap and a shrimp-head scattered floor. The best time to come is the aperitivo hour (around 1pm), before lunch on a Saturday or Sunday, although El Boquerón is always busy. In fact people actually begged me not to write about it, so as not to attract more crowds.

Shrimp and cigalas are weighed on an antique scale before being gracefully laid on the smoking griddle. And while I have tried many a grilled crustacean in my time here, nothing quite prepared me for the wood-smokey flavor of these exquisitely grilled delicacies.

For a palate refreshment, try the small, sweet oysters from Northern Spain that are being shucked to order just behind the counter.

And, as always, remember that the best places to eat in Madrid are those with the most (but right kind of) trash on the floor. Just try not to slip on a shrimp head.

El Boquerón
C/ Valencia 14, Madrid
+ 34 91 527 6380

What's on the menu for the revolution

Just the other day we were discussing the fact that so many expressions and sayings in Spanish have something to do with food. Mala leche (bad milk) is for someone with a bad attitude or intentions, while a mendrugo (piece of hard bread) is a way to call someone stupid, and the list goes on and on.
And of course the food expression of the hour in Spain is calling your least favorite politicians chorizos, which, in addition to a famous Spanish pork sausage, also means "thieves". So it seems only fitting that Spanish protesters have been using food to express their feelings. Here is just a taste of the Spanish revolution.

Buen provecho!

My Father's Daughter - Gwyneth Paltrow's Cookbook Speaks From the Heart

I asked my recently visiting parents to bring me a copy of Gwyneth Paltrow's new cookbook "My Father's Daughter: Delicious, Easy Recipes Celebrating Family & Togetherness" from the States. I was curious and, I confess, have always felt a bit guilty for writing a petty blog entry years ago expressing my jealously over the PBS series "On the Road" about eating around Spain. (I think I inexplicably felt that I held the market on loving Spanish food and culture - don't bother looking for it on the site, I removed it years ago in shame). I had also heard quite a bit about the book and its recipes and can closely relate with equating my love for cooking with my love for my family and the wonderful times that we have shared around the stove and the table.
My own father, who I am incredibly fortunate to say is healthy and wonderful, is a great scientist in the kitchen, making breads, pizza doughs and other dishes that depend heavily on strict measurements and a number of external factors such as oven temperature, type of dish, altitude, humidity, exact timing etc. It surely has something to do with his training as a marine biochemist, but I think mostly revolves around a type of intense culinary satisfaction - of being able to solve the riddle of a dish and recreate it the same way every time. My own culinary satisfaction manifests itself in a different way, from the challenge of being able to invent an amazing meal from the remains of the refrigerator or the dwindling contents of my spice cupboard. I like inventing, mixing and matching and making every dish my own.
It is the combination of these things that makes Paltrow's new book so enticing. Her philosophy on cooking is one that I share - use good-quality, fresh ingredients to make simple and delicious dishes (and, drink while you cook) and the recipes themselves are simple, interesting and intentionally leave a lot of room for adaption (for kids, vegans, main dishes, dinner parties, etc.), which I appreciate as I like to take inspiration from recipes, but rarely follow them to the letter. She even includes a couple of recipes from the time she spent in Spain studying abroad, which is also something I can relate closely to. This is, in fact, partly what led me to buy the book in the first place. About a year ago I saw the recipe for Pan Tumaca on her website (Goop) and thought, "13 years in Spain and it never occurred to me to grate the tomato - what a fantastic idea!". I have been using this technique ever since.
I should confess that I have yet to actually try any of the recipes. I meant to, I truly did, but I sat down with the book to find some inspiration for dinner and ended up reading the whole thing cover to cover with a glass of wine - forgetting about eating altogether. I can't remember ever doing this with a cookbook before.
In short, I found everything about it be refreshingly clear, tenderly nostalgic and an overall delightful read, lacking in any of the pretension that sometimes invades celebrity-chef cookbooks. Quite on the contrary, Paltrow's writing exudes a straightforward love of cooking, gastronomy and family that makes it easy to enjoy and relate to. Of course the fact that both she and her kitchen are absolutely beautiful doesn't hurt either.

(Not Spanish) Tortilla Making 101

First off, I should mention that I don't mean Spanish tortillas (egg and potato omelets), but rather the delicious corn tortillas used in the cuisine of so many other places all over Latin America.

I absolutely love corn tortillas, especially those small fresh ones that I have stuffed my face with in Guatemala and Mexico so many times. In Spain it is now easy to find brands like Old El Paso and other similar versions, but these poor imitations (Old El Paso only contains 29% corn flower) lack the toasty corn taste and the soft yielding texture of real tortillas, and so I decided to make my own.
Years ago my roommate Alison and I made corn tortillas in the apartment that we shared in Madrid. She is a great cook and showed me how easy it was to press the tortillas flat by putting the ball of dough between two plates, pressing the top one firmly down in the center. Now a much lazier, and more gadget happy, version of myself asked a chef friend to buy me a tortilla press in Milwaukee and bring it to me at a wedding that we both attended two weeks ago in Chicago. Oh no, I just remembered that I never paid her back!

Anyway, I have been using it like mad since I got back to Madrid and I have to say that yes, my tortillas are indeed delicious and incredibly easy to make. The only ingredients are (instant) masa corn flour (which is now available at El Corte Ingles department store), water and salt. Masa is essentially a corn flour made out of corn that has been treated with lime and made into dough that is dried and powdered. The recipe on the back of the Maseca brand Masa that I bought (which is also used for tamales, pupusas, empanadas, etc.) calls for two cups masa, 1/4 teaspoon salt and 1 3/4 water, to make 16 small corn tortillas.

This is the process, as carried out in my tiny kitchen by me and my Dad, and captured on film for eternity by my Mom (visiting from Colorado). I should note that my dad has decades of experience frying up tortillas, ever since he and my mom would visit her family in San Diego and bring an empty suitcase along to fill up with tortillas straight from the best factory in Los Angeles. They would freeze them in our massive basement freezer in Michigan to last the year, during which snowy Midwestern Saturdays were perked up by my Dad's quesadilla lunches.

First, mix the Masa, salt and water together for about 2 minutes until forming a soft and smooth dough. You can add a bit more water if it feels dry, only about a Tablespoon at a time. It worked best to mix with our hands.
Then, to divide the dough up evenly into 16 parts, my father, the scientist, came up with this wonderful circular - Aztec looking - disk technique:

Then you roll each of the sections into balls, which you should keep under a slightly moistened cloth so that the dough doesn't get dry.

Lighting not a special effect

The next step is the tortilla press, just slip each of the balls of dough between two pieces of plastic wrap or wax paper (papel de horno) and press down. This is captured in this scintillating video.  Music by Al Green.

Voila! The last step is the cooking. About a minute on each side in a very hot, UNGREASED pan. This cooks the tortilla dough. Then, if you are going to use them for tostadas or tacos or the like, let them cool a bit and then fry in a bit of olive, or other, oil.

We had ours with chicken and vegetable fajitas during the Spain - USA soccer match. Unlike the game, the food made everyone happy!